


Tales of a Broken Mind

by Diamond_Raven



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-06
Updated: 2006-10-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 15:12:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5379863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diamond_Raven/pseuds/Diamond_Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A traumatic event changes Rodney's life forever. </p><p>Contains the non-graphic death of a major character. See notes for more details.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales of a Broken Mind

Rodney’s door shut behind him as he stretched and wandered down the corridor towards the messhall. He hadn’t gone two steps before a certain Air Force Colonel appeared at his elbow.

“Hey. You look great,” Came the sarcastic drawl.

Rodney rolled his eyes and glared at him. “It’s called having work to do. Some of us don’t make our living sitting on our asses.”

“Hey, I supervise.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sure you pull all-nighters ‘supervising’ all the time too.”

John grinned. “Nope. Nobody around to supervise at night.”

They reached the messhall and Rodney went to the serving line. He grabbed a tray and took whatever was passing for breakfast that day. John meandered behind him, hands stuck in his pockets as he followed him to an empty table.

Rodney tossed his tray down, collapsed in a chair and thought about how great life would be if he could eat and sleep at the same time.

“You know, I would totally con Carson into hooking me up to a nutrition IV—”

“But you love eating too much.” John chuckled and straddled the chair across from him.

Rodney sighed and dug into his breakfast. It was only while he was chewing that he realized John hadn’t gotten himself a tray.

“Are you on your special anorexia figher pilot diet again?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t have a tray, genius.”

John waved a dismissive hand. “I already ate. Some of us actually sleep at night so we can get up more than twenty minutes before a staff briefing.”

“Once again, I was working. I’m sure it’s a foreign concept.”

“Working? What does that have?” John held up a hand and put on a blank face as he carefully sounded out the word and counted the syllables. “Two syllables? Yeah, that’s too big of a word for me.”

“No wonder you military types don’t get anything done. There isn’t a shorter, easier word for working.”

John laughed and waved at somebody coming into the messhall while Rodney continued eating.

“What were you working on anyway?”

“The new shield modifications. I had an epiphany at about two in the morning and I reworked all the equations.”

“You are such a dork, McKay.”

“Says the man who recited pi to seventy decimal places yesterday to con Radek out of his new ‘Ghostbusters’ DVD.”

“Hey! I had to fight for it. I love that movie.” Before Rodney had a chance to interrupt, John was off, babbling about what exactly he loved about Ghostbusters, complete with reciting what sounded like half the lines and his own personal favourite moments.

Rodney rolled his eyes as he finished his oatmeal and opened his fruitcup, carefully checking the contents for any citrus fruits. Satisfied that the messhall staff weren’t trying to kill him, he pierced a grape and stuck it into his mouth, listening to John chatter on, only interrupting from time to time to laugh at him, or correct one of the lines.

“We’ll watch it tonight, okay?”

Rodney grimaced. “Tonight’s no good. I have to check the equations again.”

“Is it hard?”

“What?”

“The math. Is it hard?”

“For normal people, yes. For dorks like you and me, no.”

“Okay. I’ll come by later and help you check it.”

“You really want to watch it that badly?”

“Yes, I do. And if I have to use up a few brain cells, then that’s a sacrifice I’ll just have to make.”

Rodney snorted into his glass of water.

*          *          *

Elizabeth clenched her jaw as she watched Rodney through the thick glass of the messhall. He was laughing while he ate his fruit cup, from time to time saying something at the empty chair across the table from him.

Dr. Fountain stood at her elbow, clipboard in hand and letting her see what he had been telling her for weeks.

“It’s not getting any better, is it?” she asked quietly. Rodney snorted into his glass of water and muttering something else.

The doctor sighed. “We have him on all the right medication. His brain just isn’t responding the way we hoped.”

“It’s been seven months, doctor.”

“I know. Unfortunately, if there is any change to be seen, we would have seen it by now. From here on in, all we can do is keep him comfortable. I’m very sorry.”

Elizabeth blinked back tears.

She refused to allow herself to cry. She’d done enough of that in the past seven months. It had been hard enough losing John, but at least that had been quick, and John had died doing what he loved—fighting to protect the people he loved.

They had lost Rodney in a much slower, painful manner. He had kept it well hidden for weeks after John had died until his delusions had gotten worse. He not only imagined John quietly sitting by his desk or wandering down the corridor with him, but he imagined John speaking to him and would carry on hour long conversations with a man who had died weeks before.

By the time they realized how bad Rodney was, it was already too late. They transferred him to one of the best psychiatric institutions they knew, but it made no difference.

As far as they could tell, Rodney had no idea that he had ever left Atlantis, never mind that his best friend was dead. He spent his days wandering around, talking to John. As far as Rodney was concerned, life was exactly as it always had been.

He went on missions with his team, he worked in his lab, he ate in the messhall, he watched movies in the rec room, and always, John was his constant companion. In reality, he spent hours scribbling equations on the walls of his room and tapping away on a laptop that wasn’t there. He would sit on the couch in the rec room, staring at the wall, laughing as he recited the lines and watched a movie only he could see.

Elizabeth hugged herself. “At least he’s happy.”

The doctor nodded. “Usually when patients haven’t come out of their isolated delusions by this point, we let them be. If we continued trying to push, it might do more harm than good. I don’t think he’ll ever rejoin our world again. It’s just kinder to leave him in one he truly feels at home in.”

Elizabeth nodded and took one last look at Rodney. He had gotten up and was depositing his tray, chatting away at the ghost only he could see.

He left the messhall, laughing and nodding at the empty space beside him. He passed right by Elizabeth without seeing her, his eyes only seeing what his mind was conjuring up for him.

“Don’t even start singing that damn theme song, Colonel.”

He frowned while the ghost of his best friend said something to him. “What do mean ‘why not’? I get it stuck in my head and I’ll be singing it for the next week straight. Okay, fine. Just ignore me.”

He continued down the corridor, talking and laughing as Elizabeth watched him go.

“At least he’s happy,” she whispered to herself. And somehow, she would have to learn to make that be good enough.

**Author's Note:**

> The death of the major character happens off-screen and is not described in detail.


End file.
